


Scars

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Disturbing Themes, F/M, Implied Torture, Post Gauda Prime, Rape Aftermath Implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the series ends, two of the toughest, yet most broken, of the Blake's 7 characters find solace and support with each other. Twisted, but refusing pity, they will survive in their beautifully broken ways, rather like bonsai trees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Soolin heard the footsteps coming up the rickety stairs leading to the attic room that was her current 'home'. Her subconscious identified them as 'Avon, alone, therefore safe', even in her sleep, so she didn't leap out of bed with her gun in hand. Instead she got up, put on a jumpsuit, and waited, gun in hand.

There was the scrape of keys turning in locks and she tensed further. Avon opened the door and stepped to one side quickly, allowing Soolin to see that there was no one following him. He smiled, teeth flashing white against his beard, and carried the package in his arms to their lone table. His halting, limping steps were accompanied by the clinking of the dozens of beads Soolin had fastened into the numerous braids that covered his head. "Are you hungry?"

Soolin nodded, went to the door and double-checked, shutting the door and locking the several locks before returning to see what Avon had. He placed a loaf of bread, still bakery hot, on the table, and followed that with a wrapped paper parcel of soft white cheese and a half-bottle of wine. Soolin put away her gun, picked up the wine and raised her eyebrows at the label.

Avon grinned. "He'll never miss it. He has a cellar..." Avon's face went dark for a moment. "A cellar full."

Soolin put the wine down and tugged at Avon's shirtsleeve. 

"It's nothing."

Soolin shook her head and picked up a small metal box from the table, opening it to reveal a basic medical kit. She raised her eyebrows again.

"Oh, all right, but the bread will get cold." Avon took off his shirt and turned his back to Soolin. She put her small, cool hands against the ridges of scar tissue, spreading them to look for fresh injuries. Only three of the whip-wheals were bleeding. She coated them with antiseptic, and then turned him to examine his wrists. The bruising wasn't severe, and she nodded and released him.

He turned to face her. "You never let me win an argument." Avon smiled and stroked his hand over her shaven skull, thumb caressing a line down to the cynical curve of her smile. 

Soolin chuckled, and went to the table, breaking off a piece of bread and spreading it with the cheese.

Avon sat across from her, and opened the wine. They ate in companionable silence, finishing off the wine between them. Avon wrapped up the remnants of the meal and put his hand on the table, palm up. "You still have an hour before you're due at work."

Soolin took Avon's hand and smiled. With her other hand she traced letters on his palm. He cocked his head to one side, concentrating, and then grinned. "Yes." He stood up and stripped, and then went to the bed, lying down on his back, arms and legs spread.

Soolin wrapped rags around the bruises on Avon's wrists, and then tied him, spread-eagle, to the straps fastened at the corners of the bed. She leaned over him then, and kissed him, slowly, playing with his beard and braids before pulling back and stepping far enough away so that he could turn his head and watch as she stripped.

"You are beautiful," Avon said softly, his eyes accepting the pattern of shiny stiff skin, where the electrodes had burned, as part of her beauty. 

Soolin smiled, and cupped her breasts, then ran her hands down to the mound of her sex and stroked herself. Avon's cock leapt to attention, and she grinned wider. 

"Soolin, please."

Soolin picked up her gun, and brought it over to Avon. She raised her eyebrows. He nodded and closed his eyes. She coated the gun barrel with a thick ointment from the medical kit and approached him. She slid her hand along his inner thigh. Avon shuddered and lifted his hips. Soolin stroked his hole, working him open with her fingers, and then slid the gun into him. Avon's eyes flew open, and he looked at her in desperate appeal. 

Soolin left the gun in him and kissed him again. He moaned and rocked his hips, driving the gun in further. Soolin tugged at his braids and Avon looked at her, eyes clouded and confused. After a moment he nodded. "Yes, all right." 

She removed the gun, and straddled him, guiding his cock into place. A look of terror crossed her face, and Avon held completely still, looking up at her. He said softly, "It's all right, Soolin. I won't hurt you. I can't hurt you. It's your choice. Yours."

Soolin blinked, and her smile returned. She eased herself down onto Avon, sighing in pleasure, and began rocking back and forth, slowly working him deeper.

Avon moaned and clenched his fists in the bonds. By the time he could no longer resist thrusting upward, she was grinning fiercely and grinding onto him, making soft animal noises.

Avon jerked upward and cried out, "Blake!"

Soolin screamed, a wordless wail, and slumped atop Avon for a moment. Then she sighed, and gently pulled herself free. Avon turned his head away from her, eyes tightly shut. She kissed the faint traces of moisture leaking from the corners of his eyes, and got up. She washed at the basin, and dressed, then thoroughly cleaned her gun and put it in her holster.

She kissed Avon once more, and untied his right wrist. She paused at the door, took a deep breath, and her face went blank. Then she left for work.


End file.
